The Father’s Heart

I was lingering. I didn’t have much more to say but had no desire to end our time together. That was okay because my dad had a natural way of keeping the conversation going, even on his deathbed.

 

It was quite usual for him to tell us stories from when he was younger; the days we never saw of his life or the times we were too little to remember. That night was no different, and as his mind lit up with memory after memory, he said, “I’ll never forget when you were a baby…” Just those first couple of words were enough for me to recognize the exact moment he was talking about. I knew, because he had retold this seemingly random story to me nearly every year of my life. 

 

I leaned in to hear it one more time. 

 

In his raspy voice, he went on, “We had to take you to the doctor to get your shots. You didn’t know what was about to happen. I was holding you on my lap. You were so happy. But when that shot hit your thigh…” At this moment in the story, he would always pause, wince, and sometimes even shed a tear. The octave in his voice would change as he said, “You looked at me, shocked, like, ‘How could you let them do this to me, Dad?” And then you let out the saddest cry! I’ll never forget it.”

 

In that moment, and honestly, in all of the times prior he had rehearsed this recollection to me, I did not understand why he retold it so often. It was one of those stories where listening is more respectful than inquiring. And even in his last retelling of it, I sat quietly perplexed at what had been seared into his mind.

 

I would have to wait a few months after his passing to comprehend the significance of this experience for my dad finally, and then ultimately, for me. 

 

In the days, weeks, and months after we said our final goodbye, I found myself stuck under a pile of hardship. Every day, my mind and body tried hard to find a way out, but nothing brought relief. I was missing my dad, but also, my grown up problems didn’t have a pause button. This is real life. 

 

One of my good friends at the time encouraged me to ask God what he wanted me to know right now. I was out of ideas, so I took her advice. In a spirit of desperation and complete defeat, I asked God, “What do you want me to know right now?” 

 

After my little prayer, I moved on with my week, not really knowing how He would answer the question. Admittedly, I even momentarily forgot that I had asked it. Whoops. But I would soon remember.

 

A day or two later, I was cleaning the house, vacuuming, I think, while I was listening to one of my dad’s favorite pastors through my AirPods. My dad would often send me a sermon he wanted me to listen to. Since I couldn’t rely on him for that any more, I went meandering around this Pastor’s Youtube channel. I didn’t have any epic searches. I didn’t even know what I was looking for; I was just hungry for encouragement. I peeked briefly at the options and randomly clicked on a sermon with minimal expectations. And to be completely honest, it was one of those sermons where I nearly turned it off early. 

 

There wasn’t anything particularly helpful being said, but that all changed when the pastor asked the audience a question. He said, “Why does Satan want you to suffer?” I impulsively answered the question in my head, “Because he’s evil. Because he wants to see me suffer. Because he comes to steal, kill, and destroy.” All the typical Christian answers shot out like a cannon. But when the pastor answered his own question, his reason was completely different from mine. He said, “The reason Satan wants you to suffer is that it hurts God.” 

 

“Hurts God?” Hmm…I would have to think about that one. That was definitely not the answer I was expecting, and I was raised in the church. There would have to be some scriptural evidence to back that statement up, but I was busy cleaning. My brain made a note of confusion and went back to sucking up chip crumbs. 

 

Or at least, I tried to move on. Even with the chaos of taking care of my big family, that one question out of that completely mediocre message kept coming back to my mind. Was it true? Did God really suffer when I suffered?

 

Later that week, I felt compelled to pick up the book I had been slowly reading to help me metabolize my father’s passing, Imagine Heaven by John Burke. It’s a book that studies near-death experiences and examines the similarities between thousands of people who were declared dead for minutes and even hours.

 

I hadn’t read it in over a month, but I was not even ten minutes into my reading when I came to a subheading titled, “God Suffers”. My attention was officially piqued. I had not intentionally sought out answers on this topic, but now I wondered if my nagging question could be coincidentally answered in a book sitting on my nightstand.

 

Here’s a portion of what I read next:

 

“When we suffer, God suffers with us. “In all their suffering he also suffered, and he personally rescued them. In his love and mercy he redeemed them”(Isaiah 63:9 NLT). Paul was persecuting Christians, yet Jesus asked him, “Why are you persecuting Me?” Jesus feels our pain. He tells us on the final day God will say, “I was hungry, and you fed me. I was thirsty, and you gave me a drink. I was a stranger, and you invited me into your home.” When? they will ask. “When you did it to one of the least of these my brothers and sisters, you were doing it to me! (Matthew 25:35, 40 NLT). God enters into our suffering with us in a very personal way, and even though he allows it for a time, he does so for a purpose.”

 

To say that I was stunned to have stumbled upon biblical support for the exact lingering question I had floating in my head was an understatement, but it didn’t end there. 

 

The author went on to talk about a time when one of his daughters had a serious accident. While in the ER he was responsible for holding her down while the medical professionals performed a painful procedure. This father spoke about the excruciating pain he experienced while watching his daughter suffer. 

 

As I read, my own memory jogged over my own father’s inability to forget the pain on his infant daughter’s face. 

 

Everything began to click. 

 

My dad was made in God’s image; it would make sense that God would impart the same making’s into a father’s heart. What God wanted me to know in the midst of my suffering had been answered loud and clear. 

 

When I suffer, God suffers too.

 

Many times before this, I envisioned God looking down from heaven while I was in distress. I can’t count the number of times when I have said, “God sees.” Even when I try to remind myself of His constant presence, deep down, I believe He’s removed; emotionally distant. I reason that my suffering couldn’t possibly cost him that much grief. Logically, I am just one out of a billion people who have ever lived. My troubles should be too insignificant to cause the heart of God to ache, but what I felt God revealed to me was just the opposite. 

 

Our Heavenly God suffers intensely when we suffer. 

 

I sobbed. I sobbed for a long time. 

 

A seemingly uneventful memory that my earthly father had told and retold me for over thirty years was used to reveal the heart of God in that moment. This is what one of my longtime pastor friends calls “Golden manna,” which are the spiritual truths and gifts that can only be uncovered in the wilderness or in a deep valley.

 

But the comfort didn’t stop there. I pondered more deeply how, just like I had communicated to my father as a baby, we often ask God, “How could you let this happen to me?” 

 

The book went on to remind me that God lives outside of space and time. So while He suffers with us in the present, He is simultaneously in the future, experiencing incredible joy with us beyond anything we can comprehend here on earth. The author highlights following passages:

 

”See, I will create new heavens and a new earth. The former things will not be remembered, nor will they come to mind. But be glad and rejoice forever in what I will create…” 

Isaiah 65:17-18

 

“And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Look! God’s dwelling place is now among the people, and he will dwell with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God. ‘He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death’ or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.”

Revelation 21:3-4

 

I think one of the most beautiful truths that shine in these passages for me is that the suffering we experience on this earth, no matter how bad it is, will not even be able to be recalled once we are in heaven. My dad? He can no longer remember the pain he felt on this earth. He is dwelling with his Heavenly Father and is forever glad and rejoicing! 

 

Praise God that He has prepared a place that will be full of constant joy, complete contentment, and free of any suffering we have ever experienced.